


So Close, So Far

by Kurtssingh



Category: World of Warcraft, World of Warcraft - Various Authors
Genre: M/M, Rare Pairings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-03-06
Packaged: 2019-03-26 22:28:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 4,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13867314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kurtssingh/pseuds/Kurtssingh
Summary: A story between ranger Lor'themar Theron and magister Dar'khan Drathir.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Since the timeline is before the Sunwell event, so Lor'themar's still having his brown eyes. =)
> 
> The work is done by me and another friend who doesn't have an AO3 account. She's very talented and nice.
> 
> Thank Jess very much for the proofread!

“If you don’t want to be seen through so easily, you need to be less demonstrative.” 

Lor’themar Theron opened his eyes. The afternoon break was over. Eversong Woods was like his comfortable house, and every single tree was his precious bed. When he sat up, the leaf that stuck in his white hair fell onto his thigh. By checking the mottled tree shadows, he could tell it was about sunset. Well, time to find his fellow rangers and have a drink. Being a Mooncrystal guard was great, but it didn’t mean he wanted to be alone all the time. This place—with its solemnity—could surely make anyone including this brave elf feel lonely. Besides, there was a certain reason that he was in this position.

“I still don’t understand why did you oppose that human apprentice when Sylvanas Windrunner was around? It was nothing like you, Lorthy.”

_Ah, not again._

Ever since his demotion, his close friend Halduron Brightwing kept questioning him via the magic crystal, and the topic was merely the same. Halduron always wanted things to be done through peaceful negotiation, but it didn’t mean he was cowardly. Every ranger of Quel’thalas was a valiant fighter. He only hoped conflict never happened between colleagues.

“It _is_ me, Halduron. A human can never be a ranger; this is our most sacred job. And don’t you ‘Lorthy’ me again. I hate that nickname.”

“Fine, but you knew it wouldn’t work. Rumours of their relationship are all over Silvermoon City.”

Lor’themar threw the crystal into his pocket. He agreed with Halduron wholeheartedly, but he just couldn’t help it: He had to speak out his thoughts straightly and honestly. He ran his hands through his hair, sighing. 

Lor’themar didn’t come from a famous ranger family; he was not some supreme magister’s defiant son, either. Theron—his normal family name—was _everything_ he had. It was ridiculously hard for an elf like him to reach a position like a second-in-command Ranger-General. That widely known fact caused Halduron’s jaw to nearly hit the floor when Lor’themar rebuked Nathanos Marris right in front of Windrunner. It would be a pity to lose him. Lor’themar was always the first one to arrive at the training ground and the last to leave. He spent much time studying military tactics and strategy. He would do everything to protect Quel’thalas—the people and the land. 

“Who’s there? ” Lor’themar asked as he heard something.

The ranger turned around. His bow had never left his hand, and his arrows had never missed. This time would be no different. He twanged a warning arrow to the shadowy figure. The second arrow was already on the bowstring. Being a Mooncrystal guard would not degenerate his skills. Despite his somewhat silly appearance with a silver bird’s nest of hair at the moment, he still stood tall and proud, eyes as sharp as a hawk. 

This was how Lor’themar first met Dar’khan Drathir.


	2. Chapter 2

“You still remembered it!”

The table was divided into two areas. Ink bottles, scrolls and feather pens had been arranged in excellent order on the left. The other side, however, looked like some random woodworker’s workshop. Lor’themar sat whittling a thin branch. Displayed in front of him were ropes, dragonhawk feathers and polished arrowheads. He tried to blow away the sawdust as the magister had sighed twice after glancing at the mess . Unfortunately, his effort only caused the sawdust and the feathers fly all the way onto Dar’khan’s book.

“Of course I did.” Dar’khan whisked off the “unwelcomed guests” and rubbed his temple as he frowned a bit. “For you destroyed my finest robe.”

The ranger took a piece of rope and started to tie up the feathers. _What, I destroyed his robe?_ He couldn’t remember clearly, yet there was one thing he would never forget: The dark-haired magister showed an unbelievable calmness. He merely gave the ranger a tranquil gaze with his beautiful but brooding blue-green eyes. 

“You didn’t seem angry by my action that day.”

Dar’khan raised one eyebrow. 

“I _was_.”

Lor’themar put down the unfinished arrow and took a good look at the magister. Dar’khan Drathir looked calm as usual.

“Um, sorry. I couldn’t tell. I mean, you always look like _this_. Do you have any other expressions I wonder…?” The ranger scratched his head.

A beautiful smile lit up the magister’s face. It was so cold at the same time that it felt as though Lor’themar’s heart stopped for a second.

“Well, are you mad at me now?” Lor’themar asked.

The magister took back the smile, feeling indifferent once again. He dipped his pen in ink and wrote down some strange letters—they looked like spells perhaps—on the book that Lor’themar couldn’t understand. 

“No.” He narrowed his eyes.

The ranger laughed and continued working on his arrow. He murmured: “I don’t want to do anything to make you upset, but I can never be certain if you truly approve of the things I do. You always seem to be shrouded in the mist.” He sighed. “How am I supposed to get to know the real you?” 

Lor’themar accidentally pulled the rope apart for getting lost in his thoughts. “Gah! Damn!” He cursed quietly for his carelessness.

Dar’khan lifted his eyes from the book, looking at this white-haired ranger. He had almost buried his face in the pile of ropes. Dar’khan laid down his pen and picked up one of the well-polished arrowheads in front of him, examining it. It glimmered brightly, just like this artless ranger. _A person like him,_ Dar’khan thought, _is too easy to be seen through. Too easy to be used._

“You don’t need to know that. You should never let people know your true motivations, either.” He was still concentrating on the arrowhead. “Learn to hide your thoughts and feelings. Thus you may avoid unnecessary arguments and fomentations. It’s for your own good. I can teach you.”


	3. Chapter 3

Lor’themar didn’t like the idea. It sounded like only politicians would do that. But it was Dar’khan who suggested. _Perhaps this is important?_ He asked himself. Besides, accepting the suggestion would certainly make Dar’khan happy. “That’s what you always wanted to do, isn’t it?” He didn’t even notice his face reddened.

Dar’khan taught Lor’themar how to think before acting. He showed the ranger the art of oration and the way to control his temper. To his surprise, the ranger was a fast learner. _Perhaps he can be an outstanding political leader one day,_ Dar’khan thought. _He has the natural aura to make people want to follow him; his morale can quickly affect the crowd. It may be one of the real reasons Sylvanas Windrunner want him gone._

“But still, hiding the truth is not who I am,” Lor’themar said. “I can never get used to this.” Now, they sat on the terrace of Dawnstar Spire, chatting. Lake Elrendar glinted in the sunset, silently reflecting the image those golden, magic-saturated trees.

“It protects you from potential threats.”

“Am I a potential threat to you, then?” Lor’themar asked Dar’khan, half-joking, with his bright brown eyes landing on Dar’khan.

Dar’khan refused to answer. He chose to change the topic: “Nevertheless, you have done a very good job, my ‘student.’ Your progress amazed me.” He showed a trace of the smile. 

“You have no idea how genius I am.” Lor’themar grinned with pride. His heartbeat sped up from Dar’khan’s praise. 

“Yet still lack constancy. See? A simple compliment makes you overconfident. It will be one of your vulnerabilities. People can use it to hurt you.”

Lor’themar wanted to argue, but he couldn’t find the right words. Instead, he shrugged and climbed onto the roof. He looked down at the quiet, elegant magister. He was still watching the sunset, probably thinking of his own deals. As a member of the Convocation of Silvermoon, Dar’khan Drathir’s name was known to people, but he didn’t display his wealth and position through ornate clothes. Especially if comparing to Prince Kael’thas Sunstrider who was in shining royal red, like, forever. His dark robe made him look like part of the shadow of Silvermoon City. Perhaps the only thing that could stand him out was his sometimes accessory of a wide-brim hat. Rumours said he was ambitious, to which Lor’themar showed great scorn. He believed Dar’khan was merely a meticulous person who wanted to survive in this complex political world. _Or what’s the reason for a person like him wants to be friends with me?_ Lor’themar let out a sigh. _We have been friends for a long time, but lots of questions are still laid unanswered. Anyway, you are that type of mysterious person that people are crazy about – wait what?_ The ranger quickly stopped the strange idea in his mind.

“Who knows,” the magister suddenly began to talk. “Behaving like you can be fun…being demonstrative.” The sun had completely disappeared on the horizon. Dar’khan’s blue-green eyes reflected some sort of dark colour which didn’t belong to Quel’thalas. Lor’themar thought it was called sadness.

“Something wrong?”

“I think it’s time for you to go back to where you truly belong. It’s late.” Dar’khan raised his head, smiling lazily at Lor’themar.

“Wha- ah yes, sure, it is. I’ll see you tomorrow then.” Lor’themar jumped off and patted Dar’khan on the shoulder as a goodbye gesture. On the way home, he couldn’t help but reminisce about the lazy smile the magister had given him.

In his chest rose a strong feeling of affection that he couldn’t control at all. Then it asked the ranger questions that he dared not face. The sound of the questions was getting louder and louder it almost made the ranger want to scream. Lor’themar had no choice but close his eyes and cover the ears.


	4. Chapter 4

He’s coming. My guidance, my blessed Lord.

I know what he needs…I’ve been trying for months. Yet my position can’t reach such crucial information. 

But _he_ can. It’s time to harvest, Drathir. The “friendship” will pay you off well.

A spark of light flickered in Dar’khan’s eyes. He was not a man who enjoyed dealing with rangers – they were stubborn creatures built with blind royalty. Lor’themar Theron, on the other hand, was an exception. Dar’khan needed to use the advantage of this foolish ranger’s rank. There was another reason, one which he refused to admit deep inside his heart, he did want to see Lor’themar. He loved to spend time with this artless ranger, listening to his complaints about some hypocritical politicians or just watching him show off his archery skills. He also took great delight in gazing into the ranger’s beautiful, passionate brown eyes. 

“So they finally decided to let you go back to your previous position. Congratulations.” Dar’khan said. 

“Because no one else can replace me,” Lor’themar replied pridefully. “I’m the best ranger around next to Windrunner, mhmm. Besides, I’ll take charge of the safety of the Mooncrystals as well. Looks like I did a pretty good job there.”

They were taking a small walk in Eversong Woods; the wind was never too freezing or too warm, everything here was perfectly balanced by the Sunwell’s power. There were lots of things Lor’themar was going to tell Dar’khan since they hadn’t met for some time. He wanted to tell him that Rommath burnt Halduron’s favourite quiver last week; the dragonhawks lived beside Elrendar Falls had new babies. And there was the most important thing: he was looking for a chance to ask Dar’khan if he had the same uncontrollable affection for him as he did. 

But these could wait. For now, Lor’themar was deeply concerned about Dar’khan’s unusual status.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

The dark-haired magister didn’t answer. He was observing the deep of the forest, lost in thought. Lor’themar reached out to his arrows almost by reflex, but nothing dangerous was there, only the usual whistle of the wind. The ranger guessed the magister was just too tired—he overheard the convocation’s messy business from Windrunner. _You have to cheer him up. Then he can stay with you for longer..._

“Is there anything I can do?”

The magister turned his head to Lor’themar. Everything went as planned. He looked at the ranger’s chiseled face. _Naïve and solicitous,_ Dar’khan thought, _these are your fatal weaknesses, my dear Lor’themar._

Dar'khan told Lor'themar his _carefully planned_ worrying.


	5. Chapter 5

An invisibility spell was simple enough to a magister like Dar’khan Drathir, but the Mooncrystals had a special protection that would record any magical trace; thus he needed a guide with privilege – like Lot’themar Theron. Dar’khan was wearing a cloak which did not suit him well, and he followed the ranger silently. It was actually Lor’themar’s cloak and he insisted the magister to wear it as a cover for this was the first time he did something “illegal”. The old cloak was filled with the smell of mud and leaves, as well as the smell of sweat that belonged to the ranger. Since Lor’themar was a bit taller, the magister had to lift the bottom of the cloak in order not to step on. Dar’khan was always a well-groomed person, so this muddy disguise was indeed getting on his nerves. But that cloak belonged to _him_ , so the magister could not just throw it away. Dar’khan raised his eyes, looking at the ranger - his white hair shined faintly under the light of the twin moons of Azeroth.

It reminded Dar’khan of the reflecting light of arrows.

For a long time, Dar’khan had searched for a way to get access to the Mooncrystals. The fruitless progression almost drove him to madness until he met Lor’themar in the forest. He successfully made friends with the ranger, which he was still surprised at how quick it was. Establishing trust seemed way too convenient in this case. Perhaps he didn’t have many friends, for he could be a little crude sometimes. The poor ranger appreciated every friendship he had and would try his best to maintain it.

The magister felt the power of the Mooncrystals. One of them was nearby. Dar’khan hesitated for his insidious purpose that could not be divulged, but the ranger held his hand, walking forwards. The magister could do nothing but lowered his head, feeling the warmth and roughness quietly .

“Here we are.” Lor’themar turned around, looking at Dar’khan with his clear brown eyes. He lowered his voice on purpose—he was afraid the other colleagues might suddenly show up. 

“Look.” He pointed to one of the Mooncrystals. It could only be seen vaguely because of magic, but Dar’khan knew it was there. The Mooncrystals were the ultimate defenses of Quel’thalas; they protected people from forest trolls and orcish necromancers. For the magister, they were powerful magic stones; for the ranger, they were sacred protectors. They speechlessly admired the scenery under the silver light of the twin moons, holding hands. The Moon Goddess was forever willing to share her light even though the children of Quel’thalas had chosen a different path.

“There are three of them in total,” Lor’themar said. “The other two were located in An’owyn and An’telas. They form Ban’dinoriel—our Gatekeeper. Quel’thalas will be vulnerable without them. Truly marvelous, aren’t they?”

“Yes. And seems like my worrying is unnecessary. I’m sorry I let you lead me here.”

“It’s totally fine. You mean well.”

After a long pause, the ranger continued to speak. “I felt utterly lonely during the first few days. But once I understood the meaning of this job, all the grumbles were gone. I swear, I will protect this land and our people.” He smiled firmly like a true captain. The moonlight almost made him look as if he was glowing.

Dar’khan said nothing. There was one second he wanted to tell the ranger he was a despicable liar, a treacherous traitor. Soon his regret was devoured by another voice— _receiving incomprehensible power is all that matters, you did nothing wrong._

“And I will protect you, too.” The ranger’s voice softened. Dar’khan looked up and suddenly found Lor’themar was so close to him that he could even hear his fast breaths.

“I-I need to tell you something.” Under the dim light of night, Lor’themar’s eyes shimmered. It seemed like tonight was the perfect chance to confess. He took a deep breath. “I like you—very much. Every time I think of you, I become a little… _intent_. I wonder if you feel the same way.”

Dar’khan narrowed his eyes. His mind whirled at the ranger’s admission. 

“I know it might sound crazy, but it’s true,” Lor’themar contined. “I don’t know when exactly…perhaps I already liked you the first time we met. You are elegant, brilliant, attractive. It’s funny that ever since we have become friends, I practice archery more often. Heh. Guess I want to present a better self in front of you.” The ranger rambled a little. His face blushed swiftly, his jaw quivered, and he even found difficult to organise a proper sentence. “So tell me. Tell me what do you think of me? Please don’t hide your real thoughts this time. “

After receiving nothing but long silence, like a drunken man who finally got sober, Lor’themar realised he had just said something which should never be spoken out. He remembered he was still holding Dar’khan’s hand. He immediately let the pale hand go and fell back a few steps. He was painfully conscious of his inopportunity.

Dar’khan pursed his lips and stared at the foolish ranger from a certain range. _Silly, silly man,_ he thought. _You should never tell people what you really think, or you will only expose your disadvantage._

“You are a terrible student, Theron. You have learned nothing.” The magister frowned, eyes cold as ice. The piercing chill saddened Lor’themar. He knew that he might have lost a friend tonight. No, Dar’khan was more than a friend. He was a man that Lor’themar had secretly liked for a long time—a man he could never really see through.

Dar’khan left. Lor’themar followed and walked in front of for protection and guidance. The ranger was silent and so was the magister. The dark-haired elf was still wearing the muddy cloak. He looked at the back of Lor’themar and wanted to hug him, but he controlled the dangerous desire. He behaved as calm as he could, like the first time they met.


	6. Chapter 6

Lor’themar Theron was not the irritable ranger anymore. He spoke the words of intelligence and humour. He weighed up the situation and made wise decisions for each different occasion. He was a charming leader who could not be seen through easily. People even believed that one day he shalt replace Sylvanas Windrunner and become the new Ranger-General. He had no desire to deal with rumours, the only thing he was eager to do these days was to search for that familiar face whenever the rangers had a meeting with the Convocation of Silvermoon. Occasionally, their eyes met and it was always Dar’khan who looked away first. _I’m using the knowledge you taught in my everyday life,_ Lor’themar thought. _Are you happy with the results?_

Until one day, Lor’themar could no longer find Magister Drathir in the crowd. Other members of the convocation said he had been strangely missing for quite some time. The Dawnstar Spire was completely un-organised; only a few arcane reavers were left patrolling. They had already sent people to search, but Dar’khan was gone, like a person who never existed. 

The smell of rotting gradually filled the air with each passing day, nobody knew why. Dragonhawks and Springpaw Lynx were getting more and more ferocious each day. They howled shrilly to warn the people of Quel’thalas of the upcoming dark storm. Lor’themar was having the same nightmare recently. He could not remember the details, but he always ended up waking up while yelling out the same name again and again: 

“Dar’khan!”


	7. Chapter 7

“…You still remembered it.”

“It was our first meet, and I destroyed your finest robe. I’m surprised to see you here.” 

Dar’khan looked pale and disheveled. He was busy doing his blessed Lord’s orders during the absence. There were flaws in his wearing, but he did not care anymore—soon, he would gain what he truly wanted. The magister gazed at Lor’themar’s face—he sometimes watched him via the crystal while having a break, but that couldn’t compare to a face-to-face meet. Now, he was real; the dark-haired elf could feel his breath and his heat.

Dar’khan was satisfied, for Lor’themar had indeed achieved what he asked. He was calm, having no problem hiding his emotions. But today was not the day for celebrating; Dar’khan was going to give the ranger a chance–a chance to share the glory with him. He steadily told Lor’themar everything: the tragic fate of Ban’dinoriel, the future of Quel’thalas, and the power his blessed Lord—Arthas Menethil—would grant them. He thought if the ranger was willing to learn the so-called hypocritical behaviours only for him, he had no reason to refuse such extraordinary power.

“Will you join me, then?”

Memories of the past arose in Dar’khan’s mind. He remembered Lor’themar wanted to be a great Ranger-General even if he did not come from a famous family. He also remembered the ranger’s wish for eternal prosperity to Quel’thalas. Lor’themar was hard-working, and he had become second-in-command Ranger-General after all. The magister was a little jealous, yet genuinely happy for him at the same time. He felt a hint of warmth when seeing the ranger’s confident smile.

But Quel’thalas would not be prosperous like Lor’themar wished. The fallen prince had brought his army of the dead to this land, and it would be transformed into something new, something _awing_. Dar’khan grinned cruelly while thinking of this, and he laughed at Lor’themar’s stupidity in matters of the heart. His disguise fooled the ranger to give him everything he needed. He made the naïve elf believe that he too wanted to protect this precious land.

 _Well, nothing matters,_ Dar’khan thought. _Once Lor’themar agrees, everything will be restarted freshly; and between us, we may even have a chance—_

“I refuse.”

Dar’khan was shocked. He then immediately took back the look and showed his common indifferent expression. He shook his head. _You knew the answer already. He won’t accept it. He is nothing like you. He is a righteous man, and he will never be by your side._

Lor’themar held up his bow. When this ranger aimed at a Quel’dorei, the first shot was the warning, and the second was the killing. Dar’khan knew the rule on the first day they met.

“And you are no longer Quel’dorei from now on.” He clenched his teeth and shot.

The arrow pierced through Dar’khan, but no blood poured forth from the wound – at some point he had secretly replaced his real body to a mirror image. The magister gave Lor’themar a smile that could still fasten his heartbeat. The ranger stared fixedly at him, feeling ambivalent.

“Alas, don’t show your real emotion.” He was talking to Lor’themar; he was also reminding himself.

“You sold our defenses to a monster! You used me !” Hiding feelings was unnecessary now. Lor’themar shouted to the fading mirror image in grief and anger.

“Terrible student.”

“My arrow _will_ kill you the next time we meet, traitor.”

A sorrowful smile appeared on Dar’khan’s face—a smile which Lor’themar had never seen before.

“If my failure is inevitable, I do hope you will be the one that takes my life.”

The mirror image faded into nothing, leaving Lor’themar alone in the decaying forest.


	8. Chapter 8

“I greet you on behalf of Silvermoon.”

Ranger-General Halduron Brightwing was not happy to meet the ambassadors of the Horde. Comparing to humans, he didn’t understand how come they had to be comrades with those had shared many years of conflict.

Halduron left quickly after the conventional greetings, and Grand Magister Rommath had to grip his staff tightly and put down his pride. He took a glance at Lor’themar and wondered at his gracious attitude. This man really had a way. Now, as the Regent Lord of Silvermoon , Lor’themar needed to face and solve diplomatic affairs like an experienced politician. There was something vaguely familiar about this white-haired man’s acts, and only he himself knew who trained him to smile properly and spoke tactfully. 

_What you had taught is actually helping us to survive in this broken world._ Lor’thear thought. _What kind of man are you, Dar’khan? I still can’t see through you after all these years._

Regent Lord Lor’themar Theron had this strongly maddening yearning he could not share with anyone.

_Where are you, Dar’khan?_


End file.
